


TIE Fighter: Revenge of the Chiss

by ImperialGirl, MissKitsune08



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Evil, F/M, TIE Fighter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialGirl/pseuds/ImperialGirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKitsune08/pseuds/MissKitsune08
Summary: Crack! Evil AU of Imperial Girl’sTIE Fighterverse. Dark Lady Thelea comes to Coruscant to claim her throne. Features Thrawn with the beard of evil. Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImperialGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialGirl/gifts).



> A/N: This story is basically evil mirrorverse retelling of Thelea’s peace proposal to the New Republic. Only in this version she comes to claim the throne. The idea was born during chatting sessions with ImperialGirl who complained how difficult time Thelea would have making the Provisional Council see reason and ally themselves with Thrawn. I suggested that if Thelea had been a Dark Side user she would not have found it difficult at all. Plus a certain character whom we both hated could have gotten a fate he deserved. And thus Dark Thelea was born… 
> 
> Disclaimer: I borrowed few paragraphs from Imperial Girl’s TIE: Fighter Resurrection with her permission. Lisetha, Thelea, and Rurik are hers. The rest belongs to Disney now. 
> 
> Author (forgive me father for I have sinned): Miss Kitsune  
> Beta (& partner in crime): ImperialGirl

Ten minutes earlier, five Imperial Star Destroyers had appeared above the Coruscant, the last remaining stronghold of the New Republic. After their devastating loses at Yag’Dhul, the New Republic’s only means of defense consisted of the shield generators protecting vital parts of the former Imperial Center and confiscated civilian weapon-equipped freighters. To everybody’s surprise, though, the Star Destroyers did not immediately follow with planetary bombardment or a massive ground assault.

Instead, the ISD _Defiance_ broadcast a message on an open channel. There was no greeting, no gloating or empty talk. “Imperial Center is about to be visited by a special envoy on behalf of Grand Admiral Thrawn,” said a fair-skinned, blue-eyed captain of the Star Destroyer, too young to have ever been made a commanding officer in Palpatine’s Empire. “The envoy will be met with no armed resistance and will be admitted to the Council chambers to discuss the terms of your surrender immediately upon their arrival.” The young captain frowned and his voice suddenly became cold as ice. “The fate of the system lies in your hands. There will be _no_ mercy if you fail to comply. Caelin out.”

Captain Rurik Caelin, the Annihilator of Honoghr. The Empire could not have chosen a more fearsome warrior as its messenger. Images of the wasteland that used to be a habitable planet shook every being in the New Republic to the core. Following the failed assassination attempt on the Grand Admiral’s life, Caelin carried out a Base Delta Zero order on the homeworld of the Noghri.

No one on Coruscant dared to even form a hostile _thought_ from this moment for fear of Captain Caelin's retaliation.

* * *

Mon Mothma stood on the landing platform and watched as the Zeta shuttle started folding its wings and began the landing procedure. The deafening roar of engines of accompanying TIE Fighter squadron looming over her head sent a chill down her spine. This was the most humiliating moment of her life. After more than thirty years of leading the Rebellion, she had to personally welcome and bow to her executioners.

The shuttle settled on the platform with such smooth precision that suggested that the pilot was either one of the most cold-blooded individuals she had ever met, or that the pilot had paid little attention to the world outside his cockpit. The ramp descended with a soft hissing sound and a platoon of stormtroopers in their shining white armor marched down in unison and formed two rows on either side.

Three figures appeared on the ramp. The first one was no surprise: Captain Caelin in his olive-green Naval uniform, though admittedly he was shorter than she had expected. She blinked at the second one, a tall blue-skinned alien with red glowing eyes obviously belonging to the same species as Grand Admiral Thrawn. He wore a black fleet uniform of not-quite Imperial design with contrasting red stitching along its sides.

And her heart skipped a beat on seeing the last one. A petite female alien of the same species, dressed in black low-cut dress that was a little too revealing for an emissary, wearing high heels that clicked with each step, and long black leather gloves that reached to her forearms. She was the shortest of them but she carried herself with such regal power that there was no doubt she was in command of these men.

“On behalf of the New Republic,” Mon Mothma tried hard to keep animosity out of her voice, “I welcome you to Coruscant.” She was fully prepared to die for her deliberate choice of words, in fact death would be preferable to announcing the unconditional surrender before her summarily execution that was no doubt about to follow in a matter of hours.

The alien female’s lips curled into a smile. “I like your spirit, Chief Councilor Mon Mothma.” Her basic was devoid of any alien accent. “I am Lady Thelea, a special envoy of Grand Admiral Thrawn. This is Commander Stent, leader of my personal Phalanx,” she gestured to the blue skinned male, “and I am sure you are familiar with Captain Caelin of my flagship _Defiance_.”

Mon Mothma bowed her head respectfully. Two could play this game. She was about to invite her to come forward and introduce several members of the Council who were waiting on the edge of the landing platform when a shadow caught her attention and she heard a shout: _“Cakhmaim, no!”_

A small, child-size, black-cloaked shadow had appeared out of concealment and she could see Skywalker rushing forward to the center of the landing pad, coming to a halt as abruptly as he’d started. The stormtroopers had spun into defensive postures and the alien officer suddenly had a weapon in his hand.

The Noghri had thrown a silver knife, but somehow his arm had never completed the swing down. He was standing still-perfectly still. Too much so.

That wasn’t half as disconcerting as the knife, handing suspended in the air two-thirds of the way to its target. And Lady Thelea had turned and was now standing, one gloved hand outstretched, fingers half-curled, her glowing eyes fixed on the would-be assassin.

Mon Mothma closed her eyes in resignation. Cakhmaim’s thirst for vengeance has sealed the fate of the Core Worlds. After Imperials were finished with the Noghri, there would be no grain of sand left of Coruscant.

The red eyes of the alien female glowed ominously. “Stand down, Commander,” she said in Basic to the blue skinned male. _His_ eyes glowed like a supernova and his face transformed into barely controlled fury. Captain Caelin’s fists curled in anger but neither dared to disobey a direct order from Lady Thelea.

The Lady shifted her gaze on the Noghri again. The knife completed its flip, but now dropped harmlessly hilt-first into her hand. “What is your name, Noghri?” she said with a hint of disdain in her voice.

For a moment, he was silent, the hatred in his eyes obvious to everyone. Finally, he growled, “I am Cakhmaim clan Eikh’mir.”

“Cakhmaim clan Eikh’mir,” Lady Thelea repeated in an amused tone, “you will be no doubt dissapointed to hear that your kinsman, Rukh clan Baik’vair, failed in his cowardly attempt at Grand Admiral’s life. He was even foolish enough to lay his fingers on _me_.” She took off one glove and revealed a mis-matched hand of fair-skinned synthflesh. “And my father takes any attempt on his only daughter’s life _very_ personally.”

Mon Mothma’s heart beat tripled. This was no ordinary envoy. This was the Heir to the Empire coming to claim her throne. “Before he died, though,” Lady Thelea was openly grinning, obviously enjoying the naked shock on their faces, “he betrayed you all.”

“You lie,” hissed the Noghri, his face blazing with fury, his body still paralyzed by the invisible force. Captain Caelin kept his fingers on his blaster, only the wrath of the Dark Lady keeping him from having his way with the Noghri.

“I lead the interrogation myself.” Lady Thelea said in a cool tone, the absence of anger or hostility was frightening. This was a voice of a cold blooded killer. “He was screaming like a mynock, calling out for his Clan Matriarch in his pain. I must admit I found it difficult to believe at first,” her eyes focused on Skywalker who was, too, frozen in his place, “ _who_ prompted the shift in Noghri loyalty.”

“Jedi Skywalker,” she gestured to the guards, two of them suddenly disappeared to the shuttle and a moment later reappeared with ysalamiri cages on their back. “You are under arrest for high treason against the Empire, murder of the Emperor, and an assassination attempt on the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces.” She licked her lips. “Have no fear, you will be given a fair trial.”

Skywalker’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I had nothing to do with an attempt on your father’s life,” he said as he was put into binders and lead well into the Force-repelling field of the ysalamiri. Mon Mothma noted with pride that he did not try to claim innocence for his other so-called crimes.

“Perhaps.” The Dark Lady shrugged. “I will determine that later during interrogation. Guards, escort him to the shuttle.” Mon Mothma realized that this must have been her plan all along. With Skywalker powerless to resist her takeover, Thelea was given a free reign over Coruscant.

The Dark Lady waited until the Jedi was taken away into the shuttle and then she turned her attention back to the Noghri. “Cakhmaim clan Eikh’mir.” And she realized that Thelea was a judge, jury, and executioner in one person. “You have been charged with an assassination attempt to the Heir Apparent. You are guilty. Punishment for this crime is death by my hand.”

Mon Mothma’s eyes widened when she saw white-blue lightning coming out of Dark Lady’s hand. There was a sudden smell of burned flesh as the bolts hit the intended target and she had hard time suppressing the urge to vomit. She closed her eyes and covered her eyes trying to block out the inhuman screams that lasted for several minutes.

When there was nothing but a scorched remains, the Dark Lady stopped and took a deep breath. “Such is the fate of the enemies of the Empire,” she said in a tone that Mon Mothma would hope to never hear again.

“And now, Madam Chief Councilor,” Lady Thelea shifted her glowing gaze at her, “I believe we were about to discuss the terms of your surrender.”

* * *

 Having never witnessed the old Imperial Senate in its full sycophantic glory, let alone its Republic predecessor, and accustomed to the Ascendancy’s regimented ways that even applied in politics, Thelea was not sure what she’d expected from the Provisional Council. Even the sad, frustrated stories her master had told of the Old Republic in its dying days, with the corrupt and the inept crowding out the rational . . . but even knowing that, Thelea had not been expecting quite so much shouting.

Stent seemed less than impressed. “I still do not understand why we simply could not keep throwing anti-matter bombs at them until they surrendered and presented us with heads of their leaders on silver plates. I will never understand Syndic’s obsession with inferior creatures.”

Captain Caelin’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Thelea only shook her head and crossed her arms. Stent was an exceptional soldier but like all other Chiss in her father’s Phalanx he too had little patience with her father’s alien subjects, which from time to time proved to be detrimental to their cause. Her flagship captain in particular took being called inferior very personally. “Patience, Commander. My father can see a bigger picture. That is why he is the Supreme Commander, after all. A skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops without any fighting; he captures their cities without laying siege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy operations in the field.”

She focused her attention on the occupants of the oval chamber. There were nowhere near as many representatives as the old Imperial Senate had held, but enough, from enough races, that she had to restrain herself, dampen down her sense of the room in the Force, or the conflicting alien thoughts would overwhelm her. She took a deep breath and fed on the onslaught of fear and anger directed at her, drawing sense of calm confidence from it.

“Father warned me to expect chaos,” she murmured in Cheunh. “I’m not sure even he anticipated quite this much.”

At the rostrum, Mon Mothma turned and gestured to Thelea. “On behalf of the Inner Council, I invite the New Republic Provisional Council to hear the words of the emissary of the Empire.”

Thelea stepped forward and gave them her best polite smile. “Councilors, I thank you for your courtesy in hearing me.” There was no need to emphasize the consequences for refusing to hear her out. “I am Lady Thelea. I come before you on behalf of Grand Admiral Thrawn, my father, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces.” She fell silent and waited until the shouts and exclamations of disbelief subsided. Her father was an enigma even to his most loyal Imperial subjects, she could hardly blame his enemies for having difficulties with accepting that the Grand Admiral had an heir.

“Our forces now control Yag’Dhul and the junction of the main trade routes to the Inner Rim and the Core. Your fleets have been utterly destroyed by what you thought were the dying remnants of Palpatine’s Empire. I came here to correct that error.” She pressed the activation key and watched as a galactic map swirled to existence in the center of the floor.

A glowing yellow delineated the slowly-constricting area of the New Republic, while the Imperial Remnant and its recently-reacquired worlds were picked out in red. “This is the region you refer to as the Imperial Remnant.” She tapped another key, and an area appeared bordered in green, overlaying the Remnant and encompassing much of what the humans called Wild Space and the Unknown Regions, “And this,” she said, now speaking over quieter murmurs of confusion, “is the Empire of the Hand. Over two hundred systems in an alliance the Grand Admiral has been forging for nearly ten years among the races of what you call the Unknown Regions. They have stood together against warlords, pirates, and invaders, but they cannot stand alone against every threat. For their sake as well as the sake of the inner galaxy, we cannot permit the chaos of mob rule that has taken hold here.”

She noted with satisfaction that all occupants of the room fell silent, some still stunned with disbelief but some had already comprehension growing in their heads. “I come to you with an offer. Join us and become a part of the Empire of the Hand. Become part of a world free of corruption, nepotism, and greed. An Empire not ruled by a Sith who allows the Force to rule their actions, but an Empress who uses the Force only as an extension of her own free will, breaking the boundaries of Light and Dark.”

An orange skinned Twi’lek male rose and banged his fist on a table. “Ridiculous. If Grand Admiral’s offer had an ounce of truth in it, he would have come to present it himself. Instead he sends his _child_ to talk about ending nepotism.” It looked like the room would soon erupt into a brawl. Several councilors started cheering the Twi’lek’s name, but many of them started shouting profanities at him, calling him a fool for daring to openly challenge Imperial conquerors.

So far everything was going on according to her plans. “His _child_ is also being tested, Councilor, for he will not tolerate incompetence even among his next of kin.” The shouting finally died out and she allowed herself another smile, “but since you so kindly asked, I will show you what the Empire of the Hand does to incompetent fools.”

She turned on her heel and motioned to her two companions. Commander Stent and Captain Caelin marched in unison to Borsk Fey’lya and forcibly dragged him to the rostrum. At first he was too stunned to protest but when he was thrown face down on the floor, he hissed in pain and murmured something in his native language that was definitely better left untranslated.

“Honored Councilors,” she used the Force to make her voice sound like a thunder, “Allow me to present you with a gift. I am sure you are all aware of Borsk Fey’lya’s accomplishments. His thirst for power and greed almost caused the destruction of your government from within. His attempt to overthrow Admiral Ackbar has cost you the lives of your best and bravest soldiers and played an enormous role in our final campaign on Core Worlds.” She grinned at what she was about to say next. “And though I had hard time accepting it, he was not even at our payroll.”

The room erupted into unanimous laughter, booing and exclamations of anger. Thelea paid little attention to them and continued. “He is the reason why I am standing here today. And I have no doubt he was even lobbying for hearing me out before I entered the Chambers.”

The Bothan attempted to stand up and straighten his coat but he was prevented to do so by Commander Stent. “I only did what I thought was best for the New Republic!” he blurted out, his eyes frantically searching for allies among the Councilors. Thelea knew he would have very hard time doing so.

“No, Fey’lya,” she silenced him, “you only did what you thought was best for yourself. You are an incompetent fool, and most importantly you are a disgrace to everything the New Republic stood for.” She took out her lightsaber and activated the switch.

Borsk Fey’lya tried to free himself from Commander Stent’s death grip with a little success. He even managed to shout out “No! Please! I will do anything to spare my life!” before her arm completed its swing and Borsk Fey’lya’s head landed on the floor with a plopping sound.

Thelea shook her head in disgust and turned off the crimson blade. She turned on her heel to the stunned Councilors and licked her lips. “Once again, Honored Councilors, I offer you the chance to join us. Kneel before your Empress!” Her voice amplified by the Force roared through the Chambers and slowly the Councilors started dropping to their knees one by one. There were, of course, several who refused and proudly stood up, prepared to die for New Republic ideals. Thelea gave them a court nod, for the number of people willing to die for their ideals was minimal and they deserved respect. She noted with satisfaction, though, that the orange Twi’lek was not among them.

* * *

 The Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_ was floating in the ionized space of the Transitory Mists of the Hapes Cluster. Grand Admiral Thrawn’s eyes were closed to slits as he watched the last remainders of the battle between Hapan and Imperial forces. This region’s high density of stars emitted light so strong that over the years it had caused loss of night vision in the Hapan near-human species. Their whole culture and art centered on various displays of light and their national treasure – the rainbow gems. Silicon life forms that took thousands years to mature and the glow they produced was caused by their inner light. And he very much intended to acquire few of those gems for his Lisetha. Perhaps a lovely collar dripping with crimson stones, to compliment her rich red robes, or to sparkle against nothing but azure skin . . . 

Or at least that was his original plan: causing an artificial eclipse that would make Hapans literally blind to the Imperial ground forces, removing down the current Queen from the throne, taking over the governing body and establishing a strong Imperial presence in the Hapes Cluster. Hapan philosophy suggested they could become a valuable ally of the Empire of the Hand, and he very much preferred subjugation over total annihilation.  

That had been the plan, at least, until the Dowager Queen Ta’Chume decided to bargain for her life and had her own daughter-in-law assassinated and presented her remains to the Empire as a trophy. While Palpatine might have rejoiced at such blatant display of brutality, an attack at one’s own flesh and blood was something that Thrawn was never able to forgive. And then Ta’Chume had even the audacity to try to talk him into a more amicable settlement.

With Lisetha present on the bridge.

He could hardly remember the last time the bridge crew fell into such deafening, deadly silence. From the corner of his eyes he could see Captain Pellaeon’s jaw lowering and his eyes getting wider. The Captain knew very well what happened to those unfortunate poor souls who happened to look in Thrawn’s direction.

Not that Thrawn was interested in them, any of them really. To him, human eyes seemed as unnatural as Chiss eyes seemed to humans. Even though human females shared overall physical attributes of a Chiss, their skin shades reminded him of a Chiss corpse. While Hapan physical appearance could have been pleasing to human eyes, it was certainly not pleasing to his Chiss eyes. What his only daughter found so attractive in human men he did not know, and frankly he did not even want to know. 

He did not have to look in Lisetha’s direction to know she had not taken the Dowager Queen's offer favorably. She left the bridge without a single word, each of her steps unnaturally loud due to the silence of the bridge crew. Later he noted that she had requested General Covell stand down and let her personally oversee the ground assault.

Hapes’ royal court has signed its death sentence. There would be no mercy. 

As the battle raged on, both naval and ground Hapan forces started to suffer sizeable losses. He gestured to Captain Pellaeon and ordered him to start broadcasting on an open channel. The Hapans probably mistook it as a surrender offer and thus he found himself staring at very furious looking Prince Isolder’s face. “We will never surrender to you, Thrawn.”

Thrawn sighed and gently stroked his goatee. “I am not interested in surrender. I want you to know failure, I want utter defeat, crashing down upon you. Take to your grave that it was Queen Ta’Chume who signed your and your royal court‘ s death sentences. Thrawn out.”

He motioned to Captain Pellaeon and ordered him to fire at will. In no more than twenty minutes, the battle was over. The last remaining Hapan fighters were destroyed, leaving the Hapan Cluster at their mercy. “Any word from Lady Lisetha?” he asked the communication officer.

“General Covell reported that she left with a war trophy. Mission objective was accomplished and ground forces are standing down. She is on her way to the _Chimaera_. Wait a moment.” Lieutenant Tschel frowned. “Ah, there is an incoming Holonet transmission from Coruscant. Lady Thelea reporting in, sir.”

Excellent. “Inform Lady Lisetha and reroute the message to my command suite. The bridge is yours, Captain Pellaeon.”

On his way to his command suite he noticed his wife coming back, taking measured strides, her face clearly pleased with the outcome. Her crimson dress was stained with droplets of blood and her hair was disheveled.

She looked perfect.

She was also carrying a big square box in one hand. Thrawn suppresed a grimace. “Do I want to know what is inside?”

She smirked, and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Why, Ta’Chume’s head, of course. She will make a wonderful addition to my collection.” She patted on the box. “Frozen, of course, there was foul smell even when she had been alive.”

Thrawn shook his head and entered his ready room, his eyes focusing on what Lisetha called the masterpiece: a life-sized, stuffed and mounted Rukh.

“Have I ever told you, my dear, how alarming this hobby of yours is?” he muttered, not really expecting an answer. Whenever he stepped into his command suite nowadays, he had to fight off an unreasonable shiver. Her work of art was a constant reminder of what could have happened if not for his daughter’s Force vision.

He went over to his command chair and pushed a button. A life sized holo of Thelea appeared before him and Lisetha. From her expression and soft smile, he could tell that her mission was a success. Not that he ever doubted otherwise.

“Greetings, Father, Mother,” Thelea inclined her head. “I am pleased to inform you that our demand was answered with unconditional surrender without unnecessary losses. The Provisional Council bowed before us and most Councilors have already left Imperial Center to spread the word to their home worlds.”

Thrawn stroked his goatee in pleasure. “Excellent. I assume that those who opposed us were met with a swift end, then.” The blue hologram cracked for a while, no doubt result of the ionizing interference of the Hapes Cluster.

“Yes, father. Only Organa Solo with her family and the _Millennium Falcon_ are missing, but I have no doubt we will learn of their whereabouts soon.”

Interesting, that left one thing. “And Skywalker?”

Thelea gave him a lopsided grin. She had that kind of expression whenever she was about to do something that her father would not have approved of. “In custody. I have no doubt he will join our cause, father.”

Thrawn frowned and his eyes narrowed at the knowing smile that blossomed over Lisetha’s face. “Will he, really.” His tone grew cold. “I hope you are not playing with the thought of adding him as a part of your collection.” He spat the word out with obvious distaste. “You definitely take after your mother.”

Thelea’s fake innocent expression told him that was exactly what she had been planning the whole time. “They are much more fun alive.” She laughed ominously. “But rest assured that he will join us or die, father. Thelea out.”

Thrawn blinked, staring at the holoprojector. “She hung up on me,” he said in a deceptively mild tone, his eyes narrowing into mere slits. “This is your fault, Lisetha. She certainly didn’t get that attitude from me.” He took a deep breath and calmed down. No matter what she did, she was his only daughter after all. “You deal with her.”

Lisetha chuckled and came over to him, pulling him into a warm embrace from behind. “I will. But you know how she is, she inherited my temper.” The box in the ready room was a clear reminder of that temper. “But more importantly... Is _this_ how you are supposed to speak to your Queen?” she whispered threateningly into his ear.

Thrawn felt his body stiffen. While he held the rank of a Grand Admiral, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces, he was in command only on the bridge. In their quarters, the roles switched and she was the Chiss Queen, he her most devoted and obedient subject. Or else. “I beg forgiveness, Your Majesty,” he whispered his voice hoarse in anticipation.

* * *

 “But rest assured that he will join us or die, Father. Thelea out.”

Thelea turned off the transmission before a lecture in Chiss manners could follow. From the corner of the room, she heard the other occupant take a sharp intake of breath. “Is it really wise to provoke your father in such manner, my lady?” Stent asked.

Thelea shrugged. “Mother is with him, she will calm him down.” Stent didn’t look particularly convinced but then he didn’t know. And it was pretty obvious from his expression that he did not approve of her plans for Skywalker either.

He stepped forward and presented her with a large gift box with a ribbon that he had been hiding behind his back the whole time. He coughed. “I figured it would give the room a nice touch.”

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. A gift? She curiously took the box from him, untangling the red ribbon. She tried to get a sneak peek into his mind but his thoughts only gave away a sense of nervousness and anticipation. He had been seriously worried if she would have liked his gift.

As she unwrapped the paper and opened the lid, she wondered what could it be. A decoration? She surprised most of her command staff by not making the former Imperial Throne Room her primary office. Instead she opted for the former Old Republic Chancellor’s Suite. Located in the Executive Building, over 500 meters above the surface of the Coruscant it gave a breathtaking panoramic view from outside of the transparisteel windows. Later she would have to order to have the walls repainted into warmer colors and have some of the statues replaced with something more suitable to her tastes but the room itself was more than sufficient.

Her eyes widened when she got a look at the content of the box. Her mouth opened in surprise as she touched the soft creamy fur. “Oh Stent, this is…” Her face lit up and she covered her mouth in wonder. “This is perfect. Is it what I think it is?”

Commander Stent stood up little straighter, obviously pleased that she had found the gift to her liking. “Yes,” he said softly, “It is Borsk Fey’lya’s pelt. I thought it a gift worthy of the beginning of your reign.”

She marveled at how soft the creamy fur was. She took it all out of the box, and put it on the floor in front of her long oval table. Stent has been right, it certainly gave the room a nice touch. She turned her head at him, grinning. “Thank you, Stent. You are wonderful.” She gestured him to come forward and rewarded him with a long deep kiss. He groaned in pleasure and started to undo the zipper on the back of her dress. When he was done he helped to put the dress over her head and took a moment to appreciate her black lingerie. “My Empress.”

Then suddenly the door to her office opened and Captain Rurik Caelin marched in, a bound Skywalker in tow. He took in the scene and her state of undress and his jaw hardened. If the looks could kill, Stent would have already been dead. She shook her head at the open display of jealousy.

Meanwhile, Skywalker, took an involuntary step backwards. She could see his cheek reddening as he averted his eyes at the sight of her lingerie. “Maybe we can come back later? I am sure I and Captain Caelin can wait--” he was silenced by an elbow to his side, making him fall to his knees.

“Now is as good time as any,” Captain Caelin hissed at him. _Oh my, Rurik could not have chosen to present his gift at more fortunate moment._ It was his idea to spare Skywalker. Well…

“Rurik is right,” she deliberately used his given name and walked over to her newest prey. “Since soon I am about to wear nothing at all.” She stepped over him and greeted Rurik with a hungry kiss. “Now that both my darling commanders are here.”

Skywalker froze, he looked over to Stent, then Rurik, and then back to Stent. “I, ah,… How does that even work?” He blurted out in embarrassment. She did not need the Force to tell that he found the whole situation very uncomfortable.

She snorted and noticed that Stent left his place by the table and joined her by her left side. While both of her commanders harbored feelings of jealousy toward each other, ultimately they only lived to please their Empress.

“You will find that there are many things about to change in this galaxy, Skywalker,” Thelea bent forward and ran a finger over his cheek. Somewhat rough since he was not able to shave in his captivity. She found it very charming that Skywalker tried hard not to stare at her cleavage. “You know, I have spent many years learning about Jedi and Sith… Jedi were obsessed with peace and harmony, Sith were obsessed with anger and hate.” She came closer and whispered in his ear. “I decided neither works for me. There are far more … interesting feelings completely disregarded by both.”

She heard him swallow hard. “Desire.” She whispered, feeling him tremble. “Lust.” She straightened and looked at her two companions. “Love.” She looked them both in the eyes, pleased that there was no denial in them. It took them all long enough to realize what kept her triumvirate strong.

“When I am done with you, Skywalker,” she said finally, “you will call me:  _Master_.”

 

**THE END**


End file.
